


Aftermath

by marshmallons (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, chapter 84 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/marshmallons
Summary: Erwin’s voice is soft, tentative, uncertain; perhaps even entertain the possibility of such an outcome. “If Eren can seal the hole in the wall...this mission will be a success.”“Maybe this is it. Maybe it’ll all be over once we get to that goddamn basement.”Erwin is silent, but he doesn’t disagree, doesn’t crush that cautious optimism.Levi presses on. “What then? When this is all over, what’s going to happen between us?”





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> the night before the big showdown and the aftermath. 
> 
> i blame isayama for bringing up the painful memories of erwin's death.

Levi has never liked the rain, or the cold for that matter. 

It always reminded him of the miserable damp that had chilled him to the bone as a child raised in the underground. As an adult, it reminded him of that expedition, the time that the wide skies, at one point all that he had ever dreamed of seeing, had been so deceptively cloaked by storm clouds and the rain had come down in torrential downpours that blinded them and concealed the enemy until it was _too damn late_. 

The stormfront had rolled in when they were still miles away from Shiganshina and the rain begins to pour as they settle into the abandoned remains of the ravaged city outpost. 

The sight of the structural carnage against the bleak backdrop of gray drizzle makes for a grim atmosphere. The nervous tension that had produced so much nervous idle chatter during the journey to Shiganshina ebbed; now, the scouts are silent, forlorn and moody; Levi is sure that many of them are remembering the chaos of that day so many years ago, when they had been children forced to become adults far too quickly, far too soon. Many of the scouts had been present or had experienced the aftershocks turmoil in some way, he knows that much, and though he doesn’t have any personal ties to the city himself, he’s still struck by the destruction around him. 

A quick survey of the faces around him reveals that more the majority of them look like they’re fighting back tears or painful memories, likely a miserable mix of both. Eren wears a particularly devastated expression, and not for the first time, Levi feels sympathy for the kid. 

Levi turns to the left, seeking out Erwin’s gaze. His face is carefully composed, devoid of any obvious emotion; mask-like, unfathomable, but Levi can sense from the tense set of his shoulders that he is silently paying his respects to the dead and perhaps — likely — reflecting on the masses he had sent hurtling to their own deaths in hordes, just to reach the land where they now stand present. 

Levi nudges his horse forward with a small dig of his heel. He comes forward to Erwin’s right-hand side, his literal right-hand man, and pauses to admire Erwin’s noble profile, the span of his shoulders, and the upright rigidity of his spine and strong back. If he’s haunted by the memories of previous failed expeditions, he doesn’t allow himself to reveal it.

Levi is all too-familiar with doing exactly that. 

Erwin’s unfaltering gaze turns his way. It’s not questioning, not appreciating; it pierces through him. He calls out his judgment just as steadily, gaze never breaking from Levi’s face, though he addresses everyone in the scouting legion when he says:

“Seek shelter for tonight. We start the rebuilding efforts at dawn.” 

.

Levi waits until everyone is out of sight, holed up in cliques in the few houses that had remained relatively untouched by Titans, before joining Erwin in an abandoned store cellar a short distance from the others. No words are spoken between them, not a sound; Levi just comes to his side as if naturally drawn by some unsuspecting force, returning to his rightful place. 

Erwin stands out in the tiny, dusty, unlit room, not just because he is a freakishly big man, in Levi’s opinion, but because his presence is too bright, too overwhelming to be confined in a place that reeks of loss and isolation.

He doesn’t think he would be able to stand being in this room without Erwin standing there beside him. 

Then it’s a waiting game, a challenge to see who will speak first. Hours could pass in steady, comfortable silence, and hours _have_ passed in that way before, but it’s not long until Erwin captures his attention with a quiet, commanding call of his name. 

“Levi.”

Erwin’s face is so wearied, so tired and weather-worn, but the gaze he turns upon him is soft, thoughtful. Levi wordlessly crouches beside the chair in which Erwin is seated, though it’s unnecessary; Erwin is monstrously big, and even while seated, he is almost the same height as Levi is while standing. Though his expression is somber, relaxed, Levi smoothes his thumb over the subtle crease between his heavy brows. 

“Stop frowning so damn much. You’re too young to look like some wrinkled old fart.”

And at least Erwin’s smiles, a winsome, handsome curl of his lips that Levi is only all too happy to look upon. Whether he’s amused by Levi’s foul-mouthed antics or by joke that they’re still young, he can’t tell. It’s the joke, he thinks, the joke that they’re only thirty, and yet they feel so worn and weary, burdened by the weight of protecting humanity, a task too large to be shouldered by two people. 

“If Eren can seal the hole in the wall...this mission will be a success.”

Erwin’s voice is soft, tentative, uncertain; perhaps too afraid to even entertain the possibility of such an outcome. But his eyes are wistful and Levi knows what he’s going to say next. 

“If that happens, then at last I can say that every death has been worth it and truly have something to show for it.” 

His gaze is dark, stewing with an emotion that Levi can recognize but cannot name. He voices what they’re both too afraid to even hope for. 

“Maybe this is it. Maybe it’ll all be over once we get to that goddamn basement.” 

Erwin is silent, but he doesn’t disagree, doesn’t crush that cautious optimism. 

“What then?”

A blink, and something like confusion spreads over his features. 

Levi presses on. “What then? When this is all over, what’s going to happen between us?”

His voice doesn’t crack or break, but with every word that slips past his lips, he wishes he could take back the question; with every word, something inside him hardens, wary and nervous, unsure of what the threat could be but well-aware that something unpleasant could be at bay. 

The Survey Corps had held them together all this time. The moment that Levi made the decision to follow Erwin, swore to follow him into hell and back, he knew that he had signed over his life to fighting those damned ugly beasts to the death. With the threat gone, for the first time in years, the future would be uncertain. Things would be different. 

Erwin’s mouth parted, but he didn’t speak, as if the words had become trapped someplace in his throat. To Levi, the seconds feel like an eternity, but he knows Erwin, knows the way that he turns his words over in his mind before carefully composing an answer, always the right answer. But the uncertainty in those few seconds are unbearable. 

“Then it will all be over. There will finally be peace. And maybe it will finally be the right time for us all to build lives for ourselves outside the Corps.”

Before Levi can read that as a rejection, before disappointment can sink in and overwhelm him, Erwin clears his throat. The tips of his ears grow red. 

“Though the Titans may be defeated and your duties to the Corps, and to me by default, would be complete, I wouldn’t want to build a life in which you aren’t present.”

Relief washes over him so powerfully, it crashes down on him like a wave. Erwin reads his expression, can clearly see the smile that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but he brings Levi back down with an pensive, all-knowing look. 

“There is always the chance that the mission could fail tomorrow, even if things have gone well so far,” he reminds quietly, regretfully. 

In a single swift stride, Levi swings his legs over Erwin’s parted thighs and straddles his lap. 

“It won’t fail,” he says stubbornly, as though sheer willpower alone can force a good outcome. If that was the case, the Titans would have been long since wiped out. 

Levi leans into Erwin’s hand when it raises to cup his cheek; his palm is massive against the side of his face, warm, rough with callouses and raised scars from mishaps with the maneuver gear blades. Levi knows these hands intimately, is familiar with every bump of bone; the places where knuckles had been broken, sometimes time and time again, and the bone had fused together thicker; every ridge of skin, the short, blunt fingernails that sometimes pressed deep into his skin and left fine pink marks on his skin. 

It’s not often that Erwin touches him like this; the opportunities to do so are rare and few in between. But within these small, dark walls, they’re safe for now, and Levi allows himself to be drawn in against Erwin. He pushes all thoughts of titans and humanity and the scouts in his squad as far from the forefront of his mind as he can, suppresses all of it and pushes it to the back of his mind, if only for a short while. 

Erwin’s lips are rough, just a little dry and chapped, when they press against his own, but Levi reacts instantly. 

Kissing Erwin is a purely sensual, tactile experience. He feels the warmth of his lips, the burning hot sensation of his hands wandering to his waist, untucking the hem of his shirt before sliding up his naked back, the dull chafe of stubble against his chin, stubble that had grown in since Erwin’s morning shave. Heat rushes to his face and a molten desire floods through his veins, and when Erwin’s lips move to press a kiss to the side of his mouth, a quiet whine escapes him before he can restrain it. 

He whines in protest when Erwin pulls away to nose along his jaw, fixing gentle, worshipping kisses in the wake of his mouth. 

“Take off your shirt.”

Erwin’s deep voice rumbles at the tender patch beneath his ear, ticklish and comforting, and Levi shivers in delight, complying immediately. He strips hastily, though he takes care to fold his shirt over the back of the chair. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, far from it, but Erwin looks at him like he did that very first time — eyes lit with lust, gaze intent and admiring the sight in front of him. And despite the chill that penetrates the room’s broken windows, his face feels warm, his entire body burns, and he feels naked, vulnerable beneath Erwin’s smoldering gaze. 

“Don’t look at me that way,” he mutters under his breath, cupping Erwin’s face between his two hands. 

“Why not?”

His voice is smug; he knows what he does to Levi and he’s well-aware of the power his gaze holds over him. 

“You look like you want to devour me.”

“In some ways, I do.” 

Levi tilts his chin up arrogantly, sees Erwin’s eyes follow the long stretch of his exposed, unblemished neck. “Then do it.”

If there were embers before, there’s real fire now and Erwin’s passion is unrestrained, all-consuming. He kisses Levi breathless and then some, until Levi is unconsciously rolling his hips against Erwin’s groin, seeking friction and drawing deep shudders from the man beneath him. There’s nothing but the feeling of Erwin: the touch, his taste; the sound of his altered, heavy breathing and their lips parting and coming together desperately, the friction of hips and thighs and curious hands. 

Levi’s hands move of their own accord, reaching upward to run through Erwin’s frustratingly perfectly-combed hair, to slip through his shining hair, which gleams like golden rays of light even in this dark and unlit room. He drinks in the taste of his lips, kisses him passionately. 

Erwin’s fingers — calloused, rough, tactile — glide over his naked chest, palm pressing against the swells of muscle, fingers rolling over and pinching nipples that harden immediately under his touch. 

Levi swallows down a needy noise, but Erwin rips it from him by sinking his teeth into Levi’s plump lower lip, offering a heady mix of pain and pleasure, and unapologetically apologizes with wet, sultry kisses to the side of his mouth, the hard line of his jaw, the crook of his neck. 

“Can I touch you now?”

Levi impatiently rolls his hips, presses his erection against Erwin’s navel. “What are you waiting for?”

He brings a hand down to the fly of his jeans, swiftly unbuttons and unzips them, draws them down to his knees, too impatient to pull them off fully. He reveals the soft trail of pubic hair that stretches down to his groin, the hard cock that had been hiding within the confines of his tight white pants. Erwin greedily takes in the sight that Levi offers him and doesn’t hesitate to touch, to reach out and pull his cock from his boxers. He kisses Levi again, drinking in his audible gasp, and gently squeezes his fingers around his fully erect shaft. The rough sensation of Erwin’s hand tightening around his cock and stroking him sends deep shudders rolling down his spine and Levi lets out a moan that’s louder than he intended.

He can’t figure out why kissing Erwin, touching him, sets his mind racing, fills him with all the thrill and none of the danger of flying through the trees and streaming, gliding, spinning mid-air, weightless. 

Erwin moves his hand, every gesture purposeful and skilled — Levi would tease him if he could, sneer that he must have _lots_ of cock-jerking experience under his belt in order to make him feel like this, but Erwin has a sixth-sense for snark and he cuts off Levi’s smart remarks with a demanding, ravenous kiss, wipes them from his mind with a playful curl of his tongue. Levi strangles a moan behind his nose and into the kiss, into Erwin’s mouth. 

He feels hot, ready to burst out of his skin, and his entire body aches with the need to touch, to be touched. He’s suffocated by the moans he’s fighting to keep back, the cries of Erwin’s name that he’s too proud to gasp. 

Levi’s hands move back to his hair as that clever mouth moves lower, clenches his fingers tightly as Erwin circles a nipple with his tongue, drawing it into his mouth and laving maddening attention over the tender flesh. He bites down unexpectedly and draws out a warbled moan so unexpected that Erwin begins to chuckle against his sternum. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses, but all violent effect is stripped because his voice is raw, thick with desire, and his breathing is ragged. He splays his fingers across Erwin’s chest, needs the support to remain upright, because it’s just so damn difficult when he melting, coming undone beneath Erwin’s fingers, and because he can’t get enough of this man, his commander, _Erwin_. 

Levi’s breath hitches as he brings one hand over Erwin’s, moving it in tandem. The other hand remains on his shoulder, anchoring him. 

“Like this?”

He nods, can’t bring himself to breathe, let alone whisper the litany of yeses trapped in his throat. Erwin looks at him with an adoring gaze, looks at him like he’s something to be worshipped and admired and loved. He drags himself impossibly closer, pressing himself chest to chest. His cock and hand are trapped between their torsos, adding to the friction between them, and he crushes their lips together, cheeks red-hot and eyebrows tightly drawn together. 

Erwin breathes out a pleased moan. 

“God, Levi,” he whispers, gasping his name like a dying man’s prayer. His voice is husky, rough; so utterly _fucked_ and sexy, so impossibly sexy. 

Levi closes his eyes, then forces them back open, unwilling to look to anything else other except the handsome face in front of him, those deep blue eyes and kiss-swollen mouth. 

“ _Erwin_.”

His mouth falls open in a silent gasp. He’s so close to orgasm that it’s nearly painful. 

“Erwin, god, _yes_!”

All he can think about is coming hot all over Erwin’s hand, to feel release and to cum beneath the man to whom he’s entrusted his entire life, his future, all of his being. He almost mourns that it’s over, but he’s boneless, weak beneath Erwin’s slow, lingering touch, and he’s never felt more taken care of, never so thoroughly worshipped in his life as he does each time that Erwin brings him to completion. 

Levi’s brought back to the present moment by the brush of Erwin’s lips on his clavicle, over his sternum, before he presses a final kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat. It’s so tender that it’s almost unbearable. Deep down, perhaps someplace within his subconscious that he doesn’t want to acknowledge, it feels like a goodbye, but Levi buries that dark thought six feet deeper into his subconscious, facedown. 

.

He looks so peaceful, spread out on that small bed, so deceptively serene that if Levi didn’t know better — and god, how he wishes he doesn’t — he might think that Erwin is sleeping, taking the longest and most restful nap of his adult life. 

But he does know better, and he knows fully well that beneath the covers, beneath the emerald cape of the scouting legion that Levi had draped over him, his very own, his torso is mangled beyond repair. 

Levi kneels beside the bed and clasps Erwin’s cold, limp hand to his lips. His vision swims blurry, his eyes burn with unshed tears that cling stubbornly to his lashes, but he’s ice-cold, chilled to the bone and frigid. The muscles in his throat can’t relax, no matter how much he tries to swallow past the foreign lump lodged in his throat. He can’t bring himself to breathe, to break the unholy, nightmarish silence in the room. 

Images of the battle, of the slaughter of the _entire corps_ , the confrontation, his decision to choose Erwin; it all floods through his mind, plagues him, forces him to relive the last day over and over again. 

_What then?_

Without warning, a scream builds in his throat — it can’t move past _that fucking lump_ — and he’s burning with pure, unadulterated rage, trembling with a crashing flood of emotions that that spill over in the form of damp tears on his cheeks. 

_What then?_

It’s a cruel taunt reverberating in his mind, echoing; it’s crueler and louder with every passing second, maddening. He could hear his own broken, ragged breathing, can hear the wheezing from his lungs, as though they had been constricted. Every breath is agony _just like Erwin’s were in his final hours_. 

Levi sweeps his hand through Erwin’s hair tenderly, not allowing a single hair to fall out of place, just as impeccable as it was in life. His face is serene, as though he’s smiling at the loving gesture — the most at-ease he had been in his life, and it was in death. 

There’s a cruel irony to that. 

_What then?_

The question haunts him. There isn’t a then anymore. There never will be. 

Levi angrily brushes the tears from his cheeks with trembling fingers and closes his eyes. _Lead those recruits into hell_. Erwin did, just as he had promised, and Levi had promised long ago to follow him there, _a choice with no regrets_ , but Erwin went alone, left him behind at the gates. 

But now, without him, _now_ Levi knows without a single doubt that this is a hell worse than any Erwin could have ever led him into.

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is the first thing i've written in a while and i'm pretty nervous about posting it. if you've made it this far, i would really appreciate some kudos or a comment! either way, hopefully some more works will be coming along soon.


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